I read in the newspaper that some peacocks have invaded a small town.

The news was published some time ago – except that a few days ago the newspaper reported that a man had run some of them over in his car. 

And so here is a starting point for reflection.

The peacock is one of the most fascinating animals; it has long been a symbol of beauty. 

It generally represents self-indulgence. And everything centres on outward appearance.

The female peacock is less showy than the male; she is smaller, and unlike the male, when she displays her tail in a fan-shaped spread, she does not have the colourful feathers. 

There is also the well-known Aesop’s fable in which a crow adorns itself with a peacock’s feathers to look beautiful.

In Greek mythology, the peacock was the symbol of the goddess Juno: the plumage of its tail is said to derive from the giant Argus Panoptes, who had a hundred eyes.

Upon his death, the goddess placed his eyes on the peacock’s tail.

According to more ancient traditions, the peacock, with its eyes and the splendid colours of its tail, evokes the starry sky, and was often associated with the idea of immortality.

Peacock-like behaviour also exists amongst human beings.

Men, too, spread their ‘tail’.

And here, too, it is all a question of degree.

It is one thing to show one’s ‘tail’ now and then or when asked; it is quite another to go through life with one’s tail constantly spread, perpetually on display.

I think it must also be tiring – first of all for oneself, and then for others as well.

Just as the peacock spreads its tail to be noticed and to attract female peacocks, the ‘peacock-like’ individual flaunts all their ‘talents’ to attract admiration and win public approval.

Here too, I should clarify: the normal desire to show one’s best side is not the same as the psychopathological condition characterised by a lack of empathy and an incessant, destructive sense of grandeur. 

Such attitudes do not concern only individuals: often, such behaviours also affect people when they become parents.

They prioritise their own image above all else, even before the child’s needs and emotional requirements, seeking the admiration of their children and craving the approval of those around them.

With parents like this, children do not thrive; they must constantly seek the affection of adults, which should instead be given freely. 

These parents want to appear perfect and expect their children to mirror them: their children, too, must be better than others, through academic success, physical fitness or stylish clothing. 

But this façade, this beautiful ‘peacock’s tail’, conceals some serious issues.

Such parents rarely take responsibility for their own behaviour. When they do something inappropriate, they almost never apologise.

They put on an air of superiority to conceal their own weaknesses.

We sometimes behave inappropriately towards our children – but we must not always give the impression that we have acted correctly.

The child’s reaction may well be justified.

If we insist on always being right, we risk confusing our children about how to perceive reality.

The ‘peacock’ parent then perceives every request from their child for personal growth and autonomy as an offence.

And in adulthood, establishing healthy boundaries or emotional distance becomes a difficult struggle.

Often, this type of parent also demands their children’s constant attention, and every relationship their children form becomes a source of suspicion or jealousy.

These parents become manipulative and often undermine the foundations of independence and autonomy.

Growing up with such individuals or parents can give rise to insecure behaviour, with a likelihood of developing anxious, doubtful attitudes, as the child unconsciously feels compelled to satisfy the demands of others.

I have touched upon the subject of ‘peacock parents’ because, having worked in the field of child development, I have frequently observed such attitudes more prominently in parental figures and only secondarily in children.

I would like to mention or recall a concept from Jung: the child’s unconscious stems from the parental unconscious.

I have also noticed that showing off was more common amongst professional parents – people with a high level of education.

In these cases, due to their behaviour, resolving the situation became complicated.

Very often, these parents decided for themselves when to end psychotherapy, either because they grew tired of accompanying their child to sessions, or because they felt personally implicated – and so they distanced themselves from the process.

Looking back at the last short article – entitled «the histrionic» [«l’istrione»] – it occurs to me that it rhymes with «peacock» [«pavone»].

As always, these reflections are drawn from my specialist training and from my practical experience in my professional work – primarily in the field of child and adolescent psychology. 

Dr Francesco Giovannozzi – psychologist – psychotherapist